The Mystery of The Ghost Writer And Wheat – Part 6

The young are full of desires, the old are stuck in lighting up their fires.

Every employee looks forward to Fridays, looks up to the sky and breathes in the fresh air of the weekend breeze starting to blow. Two client meetings, one conference call, one brainstorming session and data gathering for the upcoming presentation to the Chairman – perfect recipe for a hectic day. Although, Tara wasn’t too bothered, it just acted like an adrenaline punch for her.

After taking the last call for the day, Tara checked her wristwatch – 20:30 hours. A girl’s night with her college friends awaited her on the other side of 21:00 hours. Tara cleared up her desk, picked up her purse, cellphone and took one last look at her desktop before signing off.

In the parking lot, Tara unlocked the car using her electronic car keys. Before opening the door, her eyes caught sight of an oily patch on the roof of her black Honda Civic. From inside the car, she took out a paper napkin and wiped it off till the surface was squeaking clean. The contended smile indicated towards her satisfaction with the cleaned part. She then bent down to adjust the buckle of her heels. Standing at five feet eight inches, her eyes were treated to quite a view of the world compared to her lesser and average height female friends and colleagues. The look of content was still on her face while adjusting the buckle.

Tara was 13 when nature started pouring the magic sugar on her. She was not the average-next-door-Jane. She had pretty and bouncy hair, her face and her body as well started developing contours and her height started shooting up. With so many physical advances taking place and with the generous helping of Bollywood films, Tara’s love for high heels and good clothes started to develop very early on. She would stand in front of the mirror, looking at and admiring herself.

Tara straightened up after adjusting the buckle and took a quick at herself in the rear view mirror.

“One, two, three, four. Roses are red but I love you more.” she muttered under her breath.

Tara always used to say that to herself since childhood. Not only did Tara feel that for herself, the guys in her school also felt that about her. Her classmates, her seniors and even her juniors, everyone was a fan of her. When she would walk into the school in the morning, at least five guys would wave a Hi or a good morning at her. All the boys simply loved her height and her looks, they would usually suggest her to look at modelling options. There was once a guy who even tried climbing to her first floor home to give her a gift and a rose. However, his plans were foiled by Tara’s father.

There was always a ‘Tara ka bechaara’ (as her friends used to say it) in her vicinity.

All this adulation received by Tara from the boys did not change or make any impression on her. She was a career oriented girl, then and now as well. She had mastered the art of handling a male quite early on in her life. This was one of the primary reason for going into the media sector and being able to make a mark in it.

Tara rubbed and smacked her lips after applying lipstick. She looked all set for the night and started her car.

Read the next part here.